


(accidental) fly on the wall

by zynnser



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Humor, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zynnser/pseuds/zynnser
Summary: The Hoshidans were arriving for King Xander's peace anniversary celebrationtodayand Edgar still needed to polish the armor, wash the laundry, and set up the living quarters before they arrived. But he was going to get to serve the princes at the high table, and that would make all the extra work worth it.





	(accidental) fly on the wall

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I'm super late arriving in this fandom, but it's so much fun? I'm not even going to try to pretend this fic isn't pure self-indulgence because outsider!POV is one of my literal favorite things. Special thanks to [Kari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neesha89/pseuds/Kari/) for betaing and to Auve for giving this a once over before it got posted. Any mistakes have been added back in without their permission.

Edgar nearly tripped as he rushed down the stairs, carrying a stack of musty sheets to the laundry room. The banquet was _tonight_  and he needed to get this done in time to change into his livery so he could serve the high table.

He was going to serve the high table! Edgar flushed in anticipation, but made himself focus on the task at hand instead of getting caught up in daydreaming again. He’d already received a scolding from Flora because she’d told him a hundred timesthat the sheets needed to be washed and aired __before__ the rooms were made upand he hadn’t listened.

Which was unfair; he had listened. He’d just also been listening to Jakob insulting Felicia’s ability to make tea - which no one else in Nohr had the gall to do now that she was a war hero - and hoping that the steward wasn’t about to rain down hellfire on him for shirking his scheduled library dusting to polish the decorative armor in some of the lesser used hallways.

Edgar maintained that it wasn’t his fault though, since the last few days at Castle Krakenburg had been utter chaos as the maids and butlers and servants ran around trying to make sure everything was in order for the visiting royalty.

Visiting royalty!

Before King Xander took the throne it had been _decades_  since royalty had come to Castle Krakenburg. His coronation had been the event of the century according to some of the staff who had been around for most of King Garon’s reign, but Edgar was a little skeptical. Surely this gathering - with all the royal family members from Hoshido and Valla and even some of the smaller allied countries like Izumo and Cheve - to celebrate the first year of peace would put the coronation to shame.

Unfortunately the year of peace had allowed for the development of some… quirks that hadn’t been there before.

Normally the royal family lived in relatively close quarters to each other, as befitting of a royal family as close as theirs. Edgar personally would have killed his big sister if he still had to live in the same house as her, but that’s why he was a servant at the castle and not living at home.

After his coronation, King Xander had insisted that his quarters be placed in the same wing as his sisters in the room closest to the council hall, and consequently closest to the castle entrance. There were whispers that the king was concerned about an assault on the castle and wanting to be the first line of defense for his sisters, but Edgar knew that was a load of hogwash. Nobles who never spent any time in Windmire would never know about the way Lady Elise’s rooms gave her an escape route through the infirmary or how Lady Camilla’s balcony was missing all its railings and had to be scrubbed of wyvern droppings every other day.

They _also_  didn’t know about Lord Leo. Almost as soon as the army had gotten back from Queen Corrin’s coronation, Lord Leo’s retainers had packed up his room and moved him directly next to the library. They’d done it entirely on their own without the help of the staff, for which Edgar was eternally grateful. He’d seen the look Lady Camilla gave Niles when she caught him moving the last of Lord Leo’s clothing out of the family wing and if that look had been directed at him, he’s pretty sure he would have died on the spot. But somehow Niles had survived and Lord Leo had settled into his new chambers with surprisingly little grumbling from either the staff or the royal family.

An added bonus was that the library was close to the family wing, which minimized the amount of regular cleaning the servants were required to do. Two wings were much easier to maintain than the eight the castle boasted, and Edgar did not relish the thought of having to clean the entire castle every day just so that the royal family could walk through it without noticing the effort it took to keep up.

It also made daily tasks like laundry much easier. If Edgar had been taking the laundry from the royal quarters and not the far end of the far wing used for the people no one wanted to stay near, he would have already been done with it and halfway to his own quarters. Instead he was _still_ carrying the giant basket of laundry Flora had handed him, and had two staircases and three hallways to go before he could drop it off.

But with so many visitors - all of whom were terribly important people and commanded enough respect to have their own private room, private meeting areas, and private dining chambers - the castle had needed all six additional wings opened up to properly accommodate everyone.

Six wings! And that wasn’t even considering all the work that needed to be done in the stables, banquet hall, ballrooms, serving quarters, and kitchen. Dusk dragon be praised, Edgar didn’t have to participate in _that_  mess.

So when push came to shove it meant that the entire castle needed to be cleaned at the same time that the entire staff doing said cleaning needed to learn proper etiquette for serving foreign royals. Edgar didn’t understand why the foreign royalty couldn’t deal with Nohrian etiquette while visiting the Nohrian capital, but he figured that was probably where the _royalty_  part came into play.

The Hoshidan royal family was the easiest, because the king had insisted they be housed in the wing next to the family wing. The lord from Macarath said that King Xander was smart to keep his enemies under such a tight watch, but Edgar figured he was full of hot air. After fighting a war together, surely the king had placed the Hoshidan nobility so close to the family wing as a sign of trust between the two countries.

The problem was that the Hoshidans had certain needs to be met as well. Lady Sakura needed to have a room _between_  two of her elder siblings, which had necessitated switching the furnishings and wall hangings in two of the rooms to allow for decorations suited to the youngest princess. Lord Takumi needed to be situated at the end of the hall - which had not been communicated to staff until __after__  the rooms had already been rearranged - and had caused another kerfuffle as yet more hangings and furnishings were shuffled around. And Edgar had seen the eye twitch the steward had developed when he got Lady Hinoka’s request that she be close enough to the stables to tend her own pegasus. Personally he thought the idea of building a temporary stable by the princess’s balcony was a fantastic solution, but given the grumblings from the stable hands Edgar was alone in that opinion.

And those were the easy accommodations.

The new archduke of Izumo loved hot springs just as much as Izana had, so he _absolutely insisted_ he be placed next to the public bathing area - as well as the kitchens and the entertainment and the wine cellar, none of which were anywhere near each other. But he couldn’t be anywhere near that _foul enchantress_  who ruled Nestra - despite her similar fondness for hot springs and wine - and simply couldn’t endure having anyone sleeping in the rooms adjacent to him, as it would _ruin his divine aura_ or some such nonsense.

Similarly, the magistrate of Cheve wanted to be as far away from _that poncy caitiff from Izumo_  as possible, but held a deep fondness for beer and good company and requested a room that could accommodate large gatherings within its receiving area. Of course, the only room with a parlor large enough for the entire Chevois retinue was the one right next to the public baths - and thus the archduke.

And that wasn’t even considering the needs of Chief Kaden and Chief Keaton, although they themselves weren’t too difficult to please (minus the de-furring procedures Edgar was dreading doing after the celebration). The problem was that so many of the nobles had horribly backwards opinions about kitsune and wolfskin, and refused to be housed anywhere they might possibly run into one of the _inhumans_ despite their status as war heroes.

At least Chief Kaden and Chief Keaton got along with each other, or Nohr might have had to make some last minute additions to the castle.

And to top it all off there were areas the servants were suddenly barred from entering. As if learning the difference between a formal Nohrian bow, Nestrian curtsy, and the exact degree of bending at the waist that was appropriate for the Hoshidan king, prince, and princesses respectively wasn’t enough, now servants were explicitly banned from the public baths and library hall for the duration of the celebration.

After hearing the speech about all the new rules and accommodation requests the steward was dealing with, Edgar had almost felt some sympathy for the man.

Almost.

As it was, Edgar had always felt more terror than anything else when he ran into him, and that held true now too.

“What are you doing here?” the steward asked, stepping out of the laundry room just as Edgar was reaching for the door. From the bright red flush on his face and his tone, Edgar could tell that no matter what his answer was, it would be wrong.

He was _so close_. The laundry room was _right there_.

“Dropping off laundry for Flora?” Edgar held out a meager hope that using Flora’s name would get him off the hook.

“We have laundresses for that! Give that to me, and hurry up. The decorative armor in the southeastern wing needs polishing, and then __you__ need to be ready to serve tonight!”

“Yes, sir!” Edgar squeaked, all but dropping the basket to the floor and running off before the steward could give him any more jobs to complete. He surreptitiously checked behind him to make sure he wasn’t being chased down to do more work before making a beeline to the armory. The polishing oil and rags would be next to the weapons, so hopefully he could touch up the armor enough to make it presentable without wasting all the time he had left before dinner.

It turned out that the armor in the southeast hall was shinier then Edgar had ever seen it, probably because the steward was overly stressed about the peace celebration and had assigned the same task to multiple servants. Which was great for efficiency and all, Edgar could appreciate that, but it still left him standing in the middle of the hall with all his cleaning equipment and nothing to clean.

Shrugging to himself, Edgar figured it would be easier to find another hall with armor to polish than it would be to haul the entire setup back to the armory unused and risk being told off by the steward _again_ , so he wandered a bit further in until he was able to reach another hall. Unlike the first, this hallway looked like it had not received _nearly_  enough elbow grease, so Edgar set down his supplies and got to work.

At first Edgar had only planned to do the two suits closest to the entrance; he didn’t have time to polish the entire hall before he needed to be at the banquet, but the dull spots were so easy to buff out that he was able to complete four before he noticed any staining on the rag at all. It was almost like someone cleaned this hall regularly.

Laughter drifted through the door next to him and Edgar froze, awareness of his surroundings flooding in right along with overwhelming terror.

Because that laughter was coming from the library. The same library that was _strictly off limits_  to anyone not _explicitly invited_  for the duration of the celebrations.

The sound trailed off and Edgar cursed himself. He wasn’t supposed to be here and he had to get out _now _,__  but he’d already made such a racket cleaning the armor that surely Lord Leo and his… guest knew he was here?

A crash from the library startled Edgar out of his panic, only to send him into another spiral of anxiety and fear. He’d witnessed enough disasters in the serving areas to know that a noise like that could easily result in injuries, and there was no one around to help because the entire wing was off limits.

A low moan drifted into the hall from the same direction as the crash, and Edgar desperately tried to calm himself down. Someone needed help, and he was the only one around to give it. He pulled himself up to his full height and forced himself to walk toward the thick wooden door that led to the library.

Raising his arm to knock, Edgar nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand clamped over his mouth and another wrapped around his wrist to stop him from making any noise.

“My, my. Isn’t the mouse a little far from the kitchens?” Niles’s voice was husky and far too close to his ear for comfort. “You really should scurry back before a cat notices you.”

Edgar found himself unexpectedly thankful that Niles’ hand was preventing him from releasing the terrified whimpering bubbling up in his chest. He rarely had cause to interact with the royal retainers, but if he did Niles would have been his last choice. There was something very unsettling about the way the man never took anything seriously and yet still seemed to know everything that happened in the castle. If it were anyone else, Edgar might ask them for help with whatever was happening to Lord Leo in the library.

Wait. Wait a minute.

Niles was Lord Leo’s retainer. Niles was outside the library. Niles was completely unconcerned with the increasingly loud moans coming from inside the library. Where Lord Leo was meeting with a guest.

Oh. Oh no.

Edgar’s eyes widened as he realized exactly what he’d stumbled over. He nodded fervently in agreement with Niles’s earlier assessment, hoping to convince both of them that he had not, in fact, seen or heard anything that he shouldn’t have.

Niles let out a soft chuckle and Edgar stumbled a little as the hands vanished as quickly as they had appeared. He was tempted to look around to see exactly where the retainer had vanished __to__ , but common sense told him he wouldn’t be able to tell and he really, _really_  didn’t have time to waste.

Hastily piling his supplies onto the dirty rag, Edgar made a mad dash for the servant’s quarters.

“What in god’s name is _that_?” Edgar heard a disdainful voice say as he fumbled at the door to his shared quarters. “That simply won’t do. I hope you’re planning to change before the banquet.”

Jakob frowned as he appeared by Edgar’s side, making no move to help him with the soiled rags or the door. “I’m going to change, sir,” Edgar managed to get out, hoping he didn’t sound too small under Jakob’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Ah, yes. Good.” A smile replaced the frown on Jakob’s face eerily fast, and Edgar gulped. “Just don’t be late; you’re cutting it close if you want to have something to eat beforehand.”

Oh gods, Edgar had forgotten that part. “Yes, sir!” he said again, successfully opening the door to his room at last. “I’ll be in the kitchen shortly!”

Ducking inside, Edgar closed the door faster than was strictly polite, dropping the rags on the floor to hold his head in his hands. What was he going to do? He had to serve the high table, which meant he’d have to serve Lord Leo. He’d have to look Lord Leo in the eye after… after…

Edgar pushed the thought from his mind and mechanically walked over to the wardrobe, pulling out the livery he had been assigned to wear for the banquet and putting it on. His hair was a mess, but a few minutes with the water basin and a comb saw it slicked back into a low pony tail befitting of a servant employed by the royal household.

He felt like all his hard work had been for naught when he got to the kitchen and the cook set down a bowl of beef stew on the table in front of him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Eat up; you’ve got to keep your strength up if you’re going to make it through three days of banquets and balls.”

The _banquet _.__ The word echoed in Edgar’s head, taunting him.

Edgar wanted to bury his face in his hands and never look at anyone ever again, but he didn’t need to mess up his hair right before he had to serve royalty. He took a few calming breaths and focused on the etiquette he would need to use while serving the table with the Hoshidan royal family instead.

Once the banquet began, Edgar found himself eternally grateful that the more experienced staff members were serving the two kings. They appeared to be in a good mood, laughing and joking with each other, but Edgar was pretty sure he would have melted under the weight of their combined gaze.

Unfortunately the princesses were to be served by the female serving staff, so that left Edgar to tend to the two princes, seated together at the far end of the table.

Edgar silently poured wine into Lord Leo’s goblet, focusing entirely on keeping his hands steady enough not to slosh the liquid over the sides. He felt someone’s gaze land on him and hoped - but highly doubted - that the heat in his face was just leftover warmth from the kitchen fire.

As he stepped back to replace the pitcher on the serving cart, he heard Lord Leo whisper to Lord Takumi. “Did you leave a bruise on my neck or something?”

Edgar quickly focused his attention on his feet. The stitching on his shoes was starting to come undone on the left side. He probably should have gotten that fixed before the celebration, but now it would have to wait; he couldn’t afford to be without shoes for the several days it would take to fix.

Maybe he could do it himself? It would be cheaper and faster, assuming he didn’t make it worse.

An elbow dug into his side and the maid standing next to him gave a light cough and looked pointedly at where the two princes were sitting at the high table. More importantly, where the two princes were sitting _without their food_ while everyone else had started eating.

Shit.

Edgar rushed through the serving door and grabbed two plates of food from the cook, whose demeanor had done a one-eighty from earlier and was giving him the biggest stink eye he’d ever seen.

“Don’t be late for the next course.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Edgar agreed sheepishly, hurrying toward the exit away from her reproachful gaze.

Taking extra care not to disturb the presentation of the plates, Edgar approached the high table from the right. He could practically hear Jakob’s voice in his head informing him that proper dinner service was always from the _right_  side of the guest; only butlers were allowed to offer hors d’ouevres - which were served from the _left_ \- and he was _certainly_  not a butler.

Despite the derisive tone Jakob took even within his head, that thought managed to carry him through serving the first course without having to really think about what he was doing. He managed for the second and third courses as well, even getting them out at the same time as the rest of the table and avoiding any more glares from the cook.

It wasn’t until dessert that Edgar’s concentration faltered and he looked up from the plate he was supposed to be removing and saw a faint off-colored mark peeking out above the collar of Lord Leo’s formal attire.

Any hope Edgar had of maintaining his composure through the evening fled as heat rushed back into his cheeks. He managed to grab the empty plates and totter his way over to the dish pit in the kitchen without dropping them. And if he set them down a little harder than necessary, well. At least he hadn’t broken anything.

By the time he made it back to his post the kings were standing up to give a pair of short speeches that Edgar was sure were patriotic and rousing and utterly appropriate for the occasion. He honestly had no idea though, because he couldn’t focus on a single word. Instead his mind was running in circles shrieking about exactly _what_  he had seen on Lord Leo’s neck and had he almost _walked in_ on the prince getting that and dragons save him he was going to die of embarrassment.

By the time the steward came around to release him from his duties for the night, Edgar was ready to flee. He made a beeline for his quarters as soon as he left the dining hall and buried his face in his pillow and let out a pathetic whine.

He’d survived the night.

Only two more to go.


End file.
